#TSL Pandorathon 29 When the ancestors left the photo frames at night .
They waited until I was snoring
Sure sign I was asleep
So they thought
But I was up to their tricks.
The first one to manifest herself
Was my grandmother
In her flapper gear
Leaving the stone bridge
She stood on across the lake
To the park island.
Mind you after a century
One gets blasé
Of the same landscape
So one understand
Her need to escape.
The second one
Was my mother
In her communion outfit
She couldn’t wait to get out of it
So unnatural it was
To her nature.
The third one was her cousin
In a bikini by the seashore
On the riviera, if you please,
Can you imagine
Spending fifty years
On the shelf in that outfit?
It would drive someone
Around the bend
That’s a certainty.
Well the three of them
Swiftly disappeared
From the bookshelf
When they came back
My grandmother
Had acquired an umbrella
Very wise woman indeed,
My mother had grown
Into a pink tailored suit
Even suitable in a church,
Her cousin though
Sported a fur coat and a fine hat
To hush all rumours of misbehaviour.
What had they been up to
I don’t know
But since that night
I keep replacing their pictures
On a regular basis.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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